Thank God It’s…Monday

Even as someone who loves what I do for a living, I’m not sure I ever have thought “Thank god it’s Monday. TGIM!!!”

I’m an optimistic person. Some people have even used the word “inspiring” to describe me. I’m just not an insanely enthusiastic person.

I also LOVE my weekend time. I really do.

And today, I’m really glad that my weekend is over.

I spent this last weekend saying goodbye to our family farm. My mom lived there for 42 years. As she said to my girlfriend this weekend, “This is the house Lisi came home to as a baby.”

This home, this 24 acre farm, was a lot of things to me.

It was:

full of life and love and family

a gathering place for whoever was up for working toward a dream

the place I felt most loved and excited and hopeful in my life

where I learned to play piano with my mom…her often at my side either playing or singing along with me

where we sang while making dinner

where my dad would share his freshly peeled orange, laboriously scooped out section of grapefruit, can of Coke or Snickers bar with us eager little birds waiting to be fed a treat

where I learned how to fold bath towels the “right” way!

a wild place where me, my brother and sister (and anyone else who happened to be there) could run wild and explore

the sight of my first business at the ripe old age of…I don’t even remember…I just know I sold cold cans of pop to our berry pickers

where my sister taught me how to: eat a bowl of cereal quickly so we didn’t miss the bus, shoot pool, shoot a BB gun, swing a baseball bat, kick a soccer ball, ride a mini bike, and be a better sister to our little brother

the place where my little brother made me laugh and frustrated me beyond belief and gave us a preview of how he’d eventually break our hearts

the sight of my first job…or at least my pretend job…I actually tried to answer the phones and take berry orders, but I could never remember how much a flat of raspberries was vs. a flat of strawberries vs. a bucket of frozen berries, etc

the place we left behind for a year while my parents figured out their divorce

the berry farm that stopped being a berry farm

the place we returned to that was never going to be the same as it was before

one of the the places where I felt most sad and alone in my life

where my mom hardly slept because she worked nights as an emergency room nurse, woke up early in the day to attend school functions for us and always cooked dinner before she left for her shift

in the driveway that I had my first kiss

the “meet cute” location of my best friend in high school and her now husband

on the front porch that my now ex-husband told me he loved me on our second date and I let myself be wrapped up in that love for a long time

the home that FINALLY got remodeled

the location of an intervention with my dad

the place my dad decided he couldn’t deal with our expectations and walked away from his girls

a great place for fun celebrations

the place I lost touch with for a while when I just wouldn’t tolerate the behavior of my mom’s partner anymore

the place we got back for “one brief shining moment”

where my extended family showed me they just wanted me to be happy by welcoming my girlfriend into our family

where my sweet Benji would take a bath in the big tub, play in the snow and keep an eye on Gammy’s cats…every last one of them

the obstacle course that Kate learned to navigate so quickly in the past few months as she grew from crawler, to toddler to confident walker

the place we always thought we would have in our lives

the place we chose to say goodbye to

As with anything in life, it wasn’t just good or bad, joyful or sad. And leaving it behind is the same way.

As with anything, it isn’t either/or. It is both/and. God, I’m sick of learning that lesson!

Yesterday my sister-in-law asked if I could stay one more night. I said “no”. I had a recital to go to for one of my favorite kiddos in my life AND I just needed the process of saying goodbye in that space to be done. I had been thoughtful about how to say goodbye. I really just wanted me and our little family to have a last weekend there together and my mom helped to make that happen. I took lots of pictures. Told lots of stories. Felt the both/and pang of our last breakfast in the nook together. Soaked in the joy and cried for the losses along the way. I couldn’t stay in that mode much longer. I had to tear off the band aid and move on.

I’m relieved that that phase of saying goodbye is over. I won’t ever really let go of our farm, but that phase is over. And I went straight from that emotional rollercoaster into another both/and scenario that would have been emotional on it’s own, much less when I was already running low on emotional fuel. So, I’m glad that the weekend is over. I survived all the emotions that it brought and I’m ready to see what life will bring next.